The King of Ireland
by longlostnite
Summary: Once supposed to be crowned King of Ireland, Vicki decides to crown Henry in her own special way. Just a little pwp for St. Pat's holiday


"Ow! What the hell was that for?" Vicki sniped as Coreen pinched her.

"It's St. Patrick's Day and you're not wearing green, so I have to pinch you," she responded.

"Do it again, and you'll think pinching is the worst idea ever," Vicki said.

"Goddess, you are like a Scrooge for All Seasons, Vicki. Is there a holiday you _don't_ hate?"

The P.I. thought for a minute and said, "No, not really, because every holiday brings a call from my mother wanting to know if I'm dating anyone, and if I'm coming home to visit her for the holiday. She can't be happy with a phone call. And besides, I look like crap in green."

Coreen huffed, "Well, fine, but it's four o'clock, you said I could leave early and I'm meeting someone for drinks. I recorded the parade for you, it's in the dvd player if you want to watch it." She took her green, top hat shaped purse and got out her keys, and that's when Vicki noticed that her assistant was dressed in green from head to toe. "I'll see you in the morning, McScrooge," she flounced out of the office, closing the door just a bit harder than usual.

Vicki sniffed and flopped down on the sofa muttering, "Just because I'm not all perky, doesn't mean I'm McScrooge. I can be just as fun as the next person." She sat for a minute, thinking, finally grabbing the remote and popping out the dvd from the player. A look of mischief came over her face and she checked her watch. _Plenty of time. Won't be dark for another couple of hours._

Grabbing her bag, she ran out of the office, locking it and making a mental check list.

FFFFFFFFFFF

Henry woke to a familiar scent and one he hadn't smelled in years. One was Vicki, her unmistakable musk wafting through the air and something he had to remember. Clover! In the condo? His brow furrowed, but his heart shaped mouth bowed up, smiling. _What is she up to? It's St. Patrick's Day, but if she didn't want to go crazy over Valentine's Day, I can't imagine she'd be making a big deal out of this holiday. _

Pushing the covers aside, he rose, his pale naked body feeling cooler than usual. It was March, true, but Toronto weather still held a chill in the air, some of which had made its way into the condo. Henry reached for his dressing gown and walked to the door, opening up both and the scent of the clover grew stronger.

He opened the doors to see his living room transformed. It wasn't the usual black leather, glass and antiques his eyes saw, but clover all over his highly polished wood floors. In the middle of the room sat what looked to be a throne, huge, and bejeweled and green, with a crown perched in the seat.

Vicki was nowhere to be seen though and he asked, tentatively, "Vicki? What are you up to?"

The vision that came from the kitchen surprised him. It was Vicki, but not. She was wearing an almost see through green floor length dress, with a clover and daisy crown on her head. Henry's eyebrow rose as he took in the look. "Don't worry, Victoria, we'll find whoever put this spell on you and have it removed immediately, you'll be back to normal before breakfast."

Vicki frowned, then laughed, "I'm not under a spell Henry, I just thought that since you were supposed to be made King of Ireland before your 'death' we'd celebrate St. Patrick's Day the way it should be."

Doubt shone on his face. "You mean you did this on your own, not under the influence of any spell?"

The frown returned, "No, I'm not under any spell, I promise. Now, just enjoy the fact that I'm making the effort. Please."

"All right," the doubt that was on his face made his way to his voice. "If you're certain."

Her hands went to her hips. "Yes, I'm certain, and I'd appreciate a little cooperation here, pal."

"No, you're not under a spell. You're still you." He looked down, "I, however, am not dressed appropriately. I'll be right back." He meant that literally, because almost before she even said, "Okay," Henry was back in the room, wearing, well, she didn't know what he was wearing exactly. "These are my official court clothes. I wore them whenever my father required my presence at a formal appearance."

"Good. All you need is your crown. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to find the right one in time, but you'd be surprised what the shops around here have." She curtsied and said, "Your throne and your crown await, My King."

"I think St. Patrick's Day just became my favorite holiday," Henry smirked. "How did you know I was supposed to be crowned King of Ireland, Vicki?"

"History major, remember?" She rose from the curtsey. "We've had a rough couple of months and I thought maybe we could use a little fun. Since it is a holiday, I thought maybe you'd like to be king for a day. You know, the whole, your wish is my command thing."

"I can have any wish I want?" The grin on his face grew and the thoughts that were flashing through his head would have made even a porn star blush.

"As long as it doesn't involve a three way with you, me and Sinead or any of the rest of your fast food meals, yes."

"Really? How about you me and Mike? We had a really good time the last time. And I know that," he'd moved closer to her, taking the ribbons that trailed on the front of her dress between his fingers, tugging them until they started to loosen, pulling her closer, "the good detective enjoyed it."

Vicki looked at him, eyes veiled, "Funny you should mention that, My King. I just got off the phone with Mike. He's free and on his way over. He said he's not wearing any leggings, but he could be persuaded to 'enjoy' the holiday with us."

Tugging harder on the green ribbon, he watched as the vest of her dress began to open. "Do you think he'd mind if we, say, had a little appetizer before he got here?" He looked innocently at her, "I'd make sure everyone was happy with their gifts."

Vicki's breath came in small puffs. She was never quite sure what exactly she was reacting to, the vampire or the man, but in the end it was always a moot point, because no matter which, she always felt her pulse race and herself grow wet, knowing that he was indeed gifted.

Before she could respond, he'd pulled her to him, wrapping his arm around her, one hand taking a handful of her hair to bend her head back a bit so he could lick her lips.

"You are a wise and generous king," she murmured against his tongue and he responded by kissing first her lips, then her jaw, moving his way to her ear lobe.

"I would hope so. You do inspire me to strive for greatness," he whispered against the shell of her ear. "Wasn't there a song about laying someone down in a field of clover, once?" He asked as he held her firmly, and before she knew it, she did indeed lay on her back in her own home made field, breathing quickly as the hand that wasn't occupied with making sure she didn't land hard started at her ankle and dragged his fingers up her sheer stockinged leg. He expected to reach the end, and find the accoutrements required to hold up the hose, but instead, found just the end of the stocking and nothing else. His tongue darted out, dipping into the cleft of her chin as his grin took hold. "They did wear under things back in the day, Vicki."

"I know. I just didn't want to waste any time," she purred. "Besides, I thought you'd appreciate a little more cooperation from your companion, your majesty."

His head dipped, teeth snagging one of the ribbons, completely opening the vest to reveal a sheer green blouse underneath, her breasts laying freely open to him. As his head dipped and his tongue lapped first one nipple then the other, he said against her skin, "I always appreciate your cooperation, my love, since you so often fight me." His mouth moved up to suck on her lower lip. "It's one of the things I love about you. You make me want you more, no matter how many times we make love."

She arched against him, his mouth on hers, his fingers brushing through the downy hair, teasing her, not quite touching anything, in spite of her quiet maneuverings.

"Henry. You need to take this to the next level." She felt as if she would have trouble drawing breath, but managed to squeeze out just those few words.

He nuzzled his way back down to her neck, nipping where he knew her vein was, the spot that was always the most tender. "I thought you were going to let me have my way with you tonight."

"You can. You are. But this is torture." Vicki felt as if she were definitely being tortured. She wondered if it were possible to die from foreplay.

He laughed quietly into her neck. "You're about to be even more tortured, love. Michael's here." He removed his hand, bringing his fingers up to his tongue and licking them before he licked her lips again. Henry moved quickly to the door, opening it before Mike had even made it close enough to knock. Reaching up, he pulled the detective into a kiss that almost made Vicki jealous, but she refrained from saying anything, waiting instead for the two of them to break apart so they could do the right thing, which was focus on her.

tbc


End file.
